No voice accompanies the pounding on Centavo’s door. Despite Olin having no rational means of knowing the caller’s identity and being unconscious until a few seconds ago, I don’t doubt he’s right.
Neither does Neca. “This way, quickly.”
Olin darts after Neca without looking to me for confirmation.
Another reverberating pound on the door, and I follow Olin as he ducks into an opening in the thick adobe wall.
“Here,” Neca hands me a leather satchel.
“Where are we—”
“Underground. Go.” I squeeze past while he concentrates on pushing an adobe block into the opening without so much as a scrape of noise. “We need to get lost, and quick.”
I scramble on hands and knees to catch up with Olin. “What about the ID burn?”
“Two hours. We can’t stay above ground that long, not with Huatiani on our trail.”
“Will he find the tunnel?” I shudder at the idea of Huatiani being so close, a man who would cut off his own foot if it broke the law. A man so efficient he replaced the entire ometeotl department of security over three hundred years ago.
“Eventually.”
I scrape my head on a low spot in the ceiling, “But he’s too big to follow.”
“That’s the idea.”
I’m already breathing heavily and sweating too much. Every few seconds, I clip the side of the passage with my shoulder. Eventually, I realize it’s not the tunnel that’s shifting from side to side, but me. “I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Not much further.” Right on my heels, Neca’s voice is calm and comforting. “Olin’s probably already there.”
At the mention of my little brother, I suck in a deep breath and focus on making steady progress. Gradually, the light increases, until I see the opening. I’m surprised it’s not blocked or disguised. Then I realize Olin must have opened it. Conscious for five minutes and he’s already out of my sight. I try to hurry, but my wobbly arms threaten to collapse with every plodding movement. I hear a voice—no, several voices, coming from the opening. “Olin,” I panic. “Someone has him.”
“Don’t worry. The worst that could happen is he eats one of Nenetl’s stale bean cakes.” Somehow Neca remains calm through everything. Through an attack by wolves, a brush with probes, telekinetic storms, the probable death of his teacher, and now being chased by the most feared immortal in Worker City’s history.
Maybe I’ve been so hung up on having a future, I’ve forgotten how to exist in the present. Suddenly, my elbow gives way. I collapse onto my face a meter from the opening. “Olin,” I call feebly.
“Calli, I can’t push you.” Neca is patient, but I can tell he wants to keep moving.
I call, even though he probably can’t hear me, “Olin.” A shadow darkens the entrance, and it’s him.
“This place is great. Aren’t you coming?” He’s genuinely smiling, as if nothing has happened over the last twenty four hours. For him, I suppose blacking out and crawling through a tunnel about sums it up.
I reach out my hand, “A little help.”
Worry creeps across his face. “You don’t look so good.” He stretches into the chest-high opening of the tunnel.
Between Olin pulling and Neca pushing, I work my way forward.
Olin grips me by the arm and pulls me close. “How long was I out?”
Now that my head is near the opening, I catch a whiff of the underground. Either I’m on death’s doorstep, or the last day has changed me, because the odor isn’t half as bad as I remember it. I clutch Olin’s shoulders with both hands. “You were out for a while.” I smile as he tugs me from the tunnel and catches me. “But not nearly as long as last time.”
I breathe deeply, my stomach growling. Stale or not, I’m hungry enough to risk one of those bean cakes, right after a drink of water.